


Unbecoming Tales of the Warrior of Light

by itsjustliah



Series: Bound by Fate [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Begging, Blindfolds, Characters Reading Fanfiction, Cunnilingus, Embarrassment, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Femdom, Feral Behavior, Mildly Dubious Consent, Milking, Non-con mentioned in in-universe fanfiction in Chapter 4, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pegging, Rope Bondage, Strong Woman/Weak Man, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Woman on Top, the warrior of light finds the exarch's porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21577897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsjustliah/pseuds/itsjustliah
Summary: When the Warrior of Light stumbles upon a particularly suspicious tome stuffed in the back of the Exarch's bookshelf, she can't help but take a peek... and find inspiration from its incredible contents.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Series: Bound by Fate [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1522994
Comments: 36
Kudos: 279





	1. A Discovery

One of the best things about finally entering into a romantic relationship with the Exarch was that the Warrior no longer needed to find excuses to spend time with the man. Of course, it wasn't like she had needed them before, what with her being the Warrior of Darkness, and him being the immortal leader of a full-fledged faction. Still, she felt less guilty about bothering him outside of official Warrior business now that they were officially together.

Officially, but not publicly, of course, though by the rumors flying about the Crystarium, one might have thought otherwise. As long as the rumors _stayed_ rumors, and neither of them fanned the flames, the Warrior -- and G'raha, she assumed -- would be satisfied.

That was why they preferred to express their affections in private, which usually meant one of two places: his private chambers, which she had seen far more of in recent weeks, and his study, where the odd pair found themselves this afternoon. The Warrior had no real reason to be lounging about the Exarch's study, but nobody else needed to know that. For all the populace and the Scions knew, she was "assisting him with his research".

Today, that "assistance" included lounging about on the sofa, snacking on roasted nuts, and occasionally making a few attempts to read through the piles of papers on the floor. At first, she'd attempted to distract-slash-seduce her lover, but he was quite focused on the work at hand, even seeming to get a bit annoyed at her endeavors. No matter, though. Much like a cat, she was more than content to spend time in his company while he finished up his work.

Her boredom lead her to the small bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. It seemed he'd need at least another half-bell to complete the last of his diplomatic letters, and that was just enough time for her to muddle her way through one of his dozens of tomes of obfuscated prose. She hummed quietly as she ran her fingers over the spines, tilting her head back and forth to read the titles.

A bulging section of books caught her eye, and she removed a few tomes to reveal what was hidden behind -- a half-dozen leather-bound books, with covers that were worn and tattered from age. Frowning, she removed the first one she could reach and read the title.

"_History of Ishgardian Trade Economics?"_ She murmured. "Is this book from the Source?"

"Mm." The Exarch hummed in response, still nose-deep in his pen scratchings. "I wasn't able to take many with me, but I did manage to take those I thought may be useful. Though of course, I didn't want anyone finding them, so I had to take certain precautions."

"Huh." The Warrior shrugged, then set the book aside. Economics were boring. Her fingers reached for the other books hidden in the back of the bookshelf. A few of them were really jammed back in there, so much that she had to hook her fingernails into the edges of the leather and pick them out of their nooks. She took a moment to peek at the titles before setting them aside: _Wonders of the Allagan Empire; A Treatise on Allagan Wealth, Book 1; What We Know About the First Calamities;_ nothing too surprising or interesting.

The last tome was crammed into the back corner of the stash, but with a little prying and a quiet grunt, she pried it free from the history book it was stuck to and shimmied it out.

_Unbecoming Tales of the Warrior of Light._

A spike of anxiety surged through her core. _Oh, gods, what sordid tales did they tell of me?_ There were plenty of stories the people of the Source could tell, most of them involving different forms of alcohol, and all of them coming to the forefront of her mind now. To think there were so many rumors that they'd gathered them into a _tome_ \-- and printed _copies!_

Time to see if curiosity would kill the cat. The Warrior steeled herself, then cracked it open.

_ No more quickly than his smallclothes were discarded, she was upon him, her luscious lips pressing fevered kisses to the velvet-soft underside of his manhood. The fevered fisherman let out gasping moan. By the Twelve, the Warrior of Light was pleasuring him, and in full view of----_

The Warrior snapped the book closed. After her moment of shock passed, she let it fall open to random page once more.

_ \----restrained to the mating bench and robbed of his sight, the hapless Miqo'te could do nothing but moan as the Warrior's thick fingers pressed inside his most shameful of places. And yet the pleasure he felt was undeniable, drawing forth yet another prayer to Azeyma as the coarse calluses on her fingertips rubbed at----_

A giddy grin began to slowly spread over her cheeks. These weren't true stories, or even _rumors_. This was _fiction_ written about her, and not only that, _erotic_ fiction! Yet the best element of this discovery was the fact that this very exciting book belonged to none other than the leader of the Crystarium himself.

She could hold it in no longer. Sporting that ridiculous grin, the Warrior turned towards the book's owner and held it aloft.

"G'raha?"

"Yes?"

"What in the name of the ever-loving gods is _this?"_

He looked up to her with nothing but a slightly curious expression. His eyes flicked to her, then the tome in her hands. With a jolt, he leapt from his seat, slamming his hands upon the table and nearly knocking over his bottle of ink. After making sure it hadn't spilled, he paused in an obvious attempt to regain his composure. It was too late. She'd seen.

As his ears began to droop, he stammered out an obvious lie. "I-I did not know that was there."

She raised an eyebrow at him, then flipped open the book.

"Wait--"

The Warrior scoffed at her newest discovery. "And I suppose these aren't your dog-eared chapters?" She leaned in to read the title as the flustered Exarch stumbled around his desk. "_'In Her Chains'?_ Gods be good, I..."

The Miqo'te swiped for the book, but the Warrior was far ahead of him, holding it just out of reach as she began to read. _"I should have known better than to challenge the Warrior of Light to a duel, but t'was only when she had me fettered and chained, naked, in her chambers, that I truly began to regret the dare!"_

G'raha made a few more valiant attempts to remove the book from her grip, but all was for naught. She was far too quick. With a sigh, he resigned himself to his fate, burying his reddening face in one sweaty palm. His tormentor, meanwhile, continued to flip through pages, snorting as each chapter title tickled her silly -- _Slave to the Light. Love at First Kill. A Debt Repaid._

Thought it might have been an entertaining surprise, to say the least, what was _really_ intriguing the Warrior of Light was the apparent _theme_ that these stories shared. From the scant few she paused to read, it was very clear that she was in charge, and her hapless male and female partners were all too pleased by the setup, whether they had willed themselves into that situation or not. From the broken spine, worn pages, and the _bookmarks, gods preserve_\-- it was even _more_ clear that he had a particular inclination for these types of situations.

Luckily for him, so did she.

"L-laugh all you want," G'raha huffed, turning from her snickers and making for his desk. "I'm surprised you're not more _flattered_."

A split second later, the Warrior's hands were on his shoulders, smoothing down his biceps, then encircling his waist to pull him into an embrace from behind.

"I am flattered." She purred. The shiver that ran across his skin did not go unnoticed. _Oh_. Good thing he couldn't see the wicked grin on her lips. "I am _honored_ to be the subject of your base desires, _Exarch_."

His breath hitched in his throat for a second. Funny how he'd completely frozen in place, though was his tail twitching underneath that infernal robe of his? It certainly felt like it, from the sensation that was tickling her thighs. In either case, she most certainly had his attention now. When he didn't offer her any kind of response, she let her right hand drift further downwards. As it reached the hard bulge in his robes -- _oh_\-- he took a shuddering gasp and finally spoke.

"Honored." He was trying so hard to maintain his composure. "What a peculiar-- way to say _amused_."

"No, honored, truly." She crooned, turning her lips towards one pert ear. "Is that what you like?"

Another gasp, and he stiffened again. One would think that after sleeping together for weeks, the man would have shaken off his embarrassment, but she supposed a few centuries of chastity could complicate things. No matter, she'd just have to _help him_ shake it off. Without a moment to waste, the Warrior wormed her fingers through those dastardly robes and plunged them into his smallclothes to grasp at his length.

He yelped her name, but before he could protest further, she asked: "What story is your _favorite?"_

"I-I-- _ah!_ This is-- hardly fair, you know...!"

"Was it _Slave to the Light?"_

"No!"

"Or_ In Her Chains?"_

"N-no!"

She began to tease him with long, lazy strokes. "Perhaps_ Milked Unto Oblivion_ was more your--"

"F-fine, I'll-- I'll tell you, just stop-- naming-- _agh!"_

The Warrior snickered, then planted a kiss to the base of his ear. "I'm waiting."

The Exarch let out a long, drawn-out sigh, then spat out his answer. "I-- there are a few, but the one I read most often was-- oh, gods."

"Come on."

At this angle, she could only barely see the color creeping up his ears, but from his tone, she could tell he was turning red enough to be mistaken for a Maelstrom officer. With a half-choked breath, he croaked, _"Made to Pay."_

It was her turn to shiver. "What's _that_ one about, huh?"

He let out another strangled noise of half-pleasure, half-shame. "A-a man who is made to pay, with his body, o-obviously."

"Is that all?"

He was back to silence again, it seemed. No matter. She had plenty of tricks up her sleeve, even _more_ now that she'd flipped through that incredible tome. So, with an exaggerated sigh, she grabbed at his shoulder with her free arm, then forced him forwards, closing the three-foot gap between them and the wall with ease that surprised even her. G'raha stumbled forward, protesting for the few seconds he was in motion, but the moment she pressed his chest and cheek to the cold, crystalline wall of the study, he fell silent with another "_ah!_" He didn't struggle, not even as she pulled his left arm behind his back and pinned it there with her weight alone.

_Oh_. She was going to _like _this.

The Warrior found her place at his ear again as her hand worked his cock with a steady. upbeat rhythm. "Why does he have to pay?"

This time, he was far more eager to answer, though it came as a whisper between moans. "H-he insults you, at a tavern--_ah_\-- and knocks over your dr-drink."

"I see. And how is he Made to Pay, Raha?"

"You-- _ah!"_ The Exarch's knees buckled, but he would not fall, not with how the Warrior was holding him in place. After a few gasps, he continued, his voice considerably meeker. "You t-tie him up and-- gag him, and--"

"And?" She rolled her hips up into his backside, pausing her ministrations at his front to allow him to finish his sentence.

"Forcibly-- bring him to his peak, u-until he-- he begs for mercy."

If her grin grew any wider, she would split her face from ear to ear.

The Warrior let that thought hang in the air for a moment. Then, she curled her fingers tighter around his manhood and crooned, "You know, I'm _very_ good at tying knots."

He shuddered, then took a series of quick, gasping breaths. Though they had not been courting long, the Warrior already knew what that meant: he was close. Already._ Gods, whatever did I do to deserve such a reward? _

_ Ah, right._

Had she been a bit more lucid, she would have drawn out her torture, pulled him back from the brink, perhaps even sat him down, straddled his lap, and forced him to read that fantastic tale to her. Unfortunately, the burning heat between her thighs had assumed direct control of her actions, and his gasps were far too tantalizing for her to even _consider_ stopping.

"And," she purred, speeding up the rhythm of her strokes, "I _would _like to hear you beg."

"Gods," G'raha whined, his panting suddenly mixing with nervous laughter. "You-- you wouldn't shame me for--_ ah!_"

"_Never_." She promised. She meant it, too. How could she shame him when she shared the same proclivities? "You know how I love to hear you _sing_."

She pressed her chest to his back and tightened her grip on his wrist, even as she maintained that quick rhythm. It was more than enough to pull the words from his shy lips.

"Please." He gasped, tensing in her grasp. _"Please-- use me."_

The Warrior did just that. A few more jerks of her hand, and a set of teeth clamping down on one velveteen ear, and the leader of the Crystarium was coming undone in her embrace, shaking violently with every spasm of pleasure. As the last of his strength gave out, she released his wrist, moving instead to support him by one forearm looped under and around his shoulder. His free hand fumbled for the wall of the Tower, slipping slightly from his sweat. Though his moans were more than enough to sate her --for now-- the crown jewel of her accomplishment was the breathy call of her name that found its way into his improvised song.

_ Oh, no. I could get addicted to this._

His release ebbed, and she lowered the both of them to the floor, melting into a puddle of satisfaction, then carefully shifting herself to the side to better lay his head and shoulders in her lap. Her fingers found his temples to sweep his hair back from his face.

When he opened his eyes, she did her best to dampen her wicked grin into a smile. Almost immediately, he averted his gaze, bottom lip curling into his teeth. He was cute, and that made her chuckle.

"Was that to your satisfaction, _Exarch?"_

"Don't--" He cut himself off with a sigh, raising a still-trembling flesh-and-blood hand to his face. "Yes."

The Warrior reached for his hand, then pulled it upwards to reveal his embarrassed expression once more. She smiled, then leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. "I enjoyed that, too."

She'd expected those words to encourage him, but it only seemed to embarrass him further-- when she released his hand, it went right back to his face. What a pity.

More encouragement necessary, then. She took a breath to calm herself, then tried again, this time, while gently stroking the ear she'd abused. "Perhaps when you're done with your work, we can try to more accurately re-enact the events of that story," she offered. "Maybe you can show me exactly how this rambunctious young man was tied up."

He didn't answer for a moment, but eventually, he mumbled:

"He-- had a blindfold, too."

_ Oh._

"Is that so?"

G'raha nodded.

The Warrior chuckled. "What else did I do to this poor man in that story?"

From the way things were progressing, it was unlikely the Exarch would return to his work at all this evening.


	2. Her Plaything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Pray forgive me, mine Warrior," he offered, his voice luscious and controlled, "but such gentle treatment is not at all what one had expected of a woman of your stature."  
"Is that so, little bird?" Ah, how her voice twinkled like the stars above! Yet behind that shining voice and gentle smile was the scant-hidden hint of cruelty he so desired...

_When Y'rihna entered into the service of Madame Blisswell, he had expected a life of luxury in pleasure -- in service of others, of course. One did not accept the title of Esteemed Courtesan by shirking his duties, after all. Though the work was enjoyable, and the life it offered extravagant, he still found himself lamenting. Perhaps it was because the lascivious side of him desired treatment far more base -- indeed, most of his patrons were older Hyuran women who craved the "feral" touch of a Seeker, and while he was quite skilled at taking them to their peak in the fashion they so desired, he could not help but yearn for something far different, far more degrading to his assumedly proud character._

_ What luck, then, when the Warrior of Light herself came to deliver Madame Blisswell from a terrible malady affecting her loyal employees! Before the offer had even been made, Y'rihna begged the good Madame to gift her his services, free of charge. He knew not what the magnificent Warrior would use him for, but he had heard the sordid tales from visiting customers, and could only hope that they were true._

_ Imagine his delight when the Madame accepted, and the dear Warrior did as well! Soon, the hapless pair found themselves in a private room, environs split twixt the soft, plush pillows of the bed and the cold, hard irons of the chains and straps of the tools of the trade, so to speak. Yet his delight turned to surprise when the Warrior took his wrist and lead him to the far gentler side of the room, depositing him with a smile upon the bed!_

_ "Pray forgive me, mine Warrior," he offered, his voice luscious and controlled, "but such gentle treatment is not at all what one had expected of a woman of your stature."_

_ "Is that so, little bird?" Ah, how her voice twinkled like the stars above! Yet behind that shining voice and gentle smile was the scant-hidden hint of cruelty he so desired. No sooner than she had spoken did she reveal the object she held in her hand -- a modest length of rope! Azeyma truly was looking after him!_

_ The eager Seeker began to tug at his clothing, but the powerful Woman snatched at his arm and tugged it forward, causing him to fall directly into her ample, unarmored bosom! Nigh immediately after, her free hand was searching for his belt, even as her lips found his ear._

_ "There will be no need for that, little bird."_

_ Indeed, before he knew it, both his arms were tugged above his head, tightly bound with that selfsame rope. How powerful the bewitching quality of her breasts must be! Yet its spell would last no longer, as she roughly shoved him back to the luxurious furs with the smallest effort. Soon, she had removed his belt, which she looped through the ropes at his wrists, only to strap it to the wooden rungs at the head of the bed._

_ Already, he was tense with arousal, the fact of which was clearly noticeable by the bulging of his trousers. That arousal would only grow twelve-fold when she tugged her handkerchief from the pocket of her jacket, then pulled it taught around his eyes, robbing him of his sight!_

_ To express his admiration, he gifted her a moan, then arched his back with the hope of drawing her attention to his awaiting girth._

_ Despite his efforts, to his surprise, the great Warrior did not immediately climb atop him. Nay, she did not even remove her clothing! Instead, the noble woman reclined by his side, as if she dared not touch him! As her humid breath tickled at his ear, he could only hope and pray to the Goddess herself that she would take advantage of her gift, that she would use him and his base desires to sate her own!_

_ But he would not have to fret much longer. Though he could not see her, he could hear the shifting of her body, and the heat at his ear grew as she inhaled, then exhaled to speak:_

"Is this what you wanted, Raha?"

His crimson ear flickered, the start of a shuddering series of twitches that traveled down his spine to his exposed manhood. Though she had initially missed the opportunity to run her hands over his bare skin, now that he was bound and ready, the Warrior had to admit that doing something like _this_ to him in his Exarch's robes was much hotter. It seemed he felt the same way, what with the teeth biting at his lip and the eager nudging of his hips. Despite her constant reassurance, he still seemed too ashamed to properly express that pleasure in words.

No matter. In time, she'd get him to beg.

She raised a hand to smoother her fingers over the rope at his wrists. At first, she'd worried that she'd accidentally tied it too tight, given the rock-like hardness of his right arm, but it seemed to provide additional stability for his bonds -- perks of his transformation he'd likely not considered. Perhaps there was another type of tie involving just his right arm; she could bind him as tightly as she wanted, then. The thought got her biting her own lip. Hells, just seeing his fingers curling and fumbling at the rope that pulled them to the headboard was enough to get her going.

No point in getting distracted there, though. They'd barely just begun. Refocusing, she trailed her short fingernails down his flesh-and-blood arm, then let it linger on his shoulder.

"This _is_ what you wanted, yes?" She kissed his temple, then nuzzled as his ear. Below, she lifted her leg to curl it around his knee, gently prying it apart from the other. "A _reward?"_

Another shudder, another twitch at his pelvis. He opened his lips, took a few shallow breaths, then finally managed to respond, albeit in a whisper. "Yes."

The Warrior resisted the urge to shame him for his desires. Perhaps at a later time, he'd feel comfortable enough to endure it, but with this being the first time he'd allowed her to indulge in such play, she wouldn't endanger its future by sating her own twisted desires. There was time for that in stories that came much _later_ in the volume. This one -- aptly titled _Her Plaything --_ was far tamer than the others, which made it a much better starting point.

Instead, she pressed forward with praise. G'raha had always responded extremely well to even the smallest compliments, after all. "I hear you've done _very_ well lately. Deserving of a reward, even. Is that true?"

His response was broken by another shudder. "Yes. Please."

_Oh._ How wonderful _that_ sounded, coming from his lips. She was going to have to hear that again.

Luckily, she was _just_ about to have that opportunity, as the tale dictated she was to retrieve a _"glass bottle of massage oil"._ How fortunate that they sold just that in the Crystarium marketplace. The Warrior did as the story told, rolling to her right to snatch the bottle from the small side table. She removed the cork with a flick from her index finger, then settled back in to a comfortable position at his right side.

"When you ask me so sweetly, how can I resist?" She kissed his temple once more, letting her lips linger to better relish the reaction he was about to offer her. With a gradual tilt of her hand, she began to tip the oil from the bottle, allowing first a drip, then a slow, steady stream to spill over his exposed length. 

The Miqo'te man gasped, arms jerking at his bindings, his trapped leg pulling inwards, but finding nowhere to go. He grit his teeth, then took a few more panting breaths, before quietly pleading, "P-please-- slowly, I'm--"

The end of his sentence didn't come. She understood his meaning, though. _Please, take it slowly. I'm already so close to finishing._ They were going to have to work on his hair-trigger sensitivity. For now, however, she could comply.

She closed the bottle and set it by her thigh, then, _finally,_ she smoothed her fingers over his pelvis, smearing the oil on the flat of her palm, then over and around the base. Her fingertips found his undercarriage and gave it a quick, gentle caress, before moving upwards to encircle his shaft. Each slow, deliberate movement drew a gasp or a shudder, but it wasn't until she slid her enclosed fist up and around his tip that he finally _moaned._

"Does that feel good?" The Warrior purred, still nuzzling at the side of his head.

This time, he responded quickly. "Y-yes, ah-- yes!" Seemed all he needed was a bit of encouragement.

"Good." She pulled her hand downwards, then upwards again, squeezing gently at the head as her palm passed over. Again, he moaned, voice cracking as he trembled.

"P-- please, I--"

"Don't worry," she murmured, easing up on her grip. "I'll go _very_ slowly."

True to her word, she kept her strokes light and languid, using the slick oil and gravity to her advantage, rather than sheer wrist strength. As she continued, his moans softened, and his body began to untense, seemingly growing accustomed to the sensations down south and overcoming his initial anxiety. Eventually, he tilted his head towards hers, neck craned upwards and lips parted. She indulged him in a kiss that was _far_ too chaste for their current activity, but he appeared to enjoy it all the same.

The Warrior pulled away from the kiss with a soft smile. "Would you like your _other_ reward now, Raha?"

"Ye--" His voice cracked, so he tried again. "Yes, please."

She was all too happy to comply. The next activity demanded by their current tale was one she had often fantasized about _herself_. So, without any hesitation, she released her grip on his cock, then slid her slick fingers over his undercarriage and down to his entrance.

The lightest touch sent an even louder moan spilling from his lips, his head jerking backwards into the firm mattress. His trapped leg jerked at hers, temporarily freeing it from its makeshift bonds to squeeze his thighs shut around her hand. With a chuckle, she hooked her ankle around the escaped leg and pulled it open once more, this time, holding it firmly in place.

She followed his ear with her lips. "Now, how am I to reward you if you won't let me?" She crooned, tracing her fingers in circles around his twitching entrance. "You _do_ want me to reward you, yes?"

G'raha took a few panting breaths, then swallowed and tried to speak. "Y-yes, I-- _ah--_ I do!"

Her index finger gently prodded at him, eliciting yet another breathy moan. Feeling a twitch from his abdomen, the Warrior glanced downwards to see his manhood pressed up against his belly, a bead of arousal spilling from the tip. She grinned, then continued. "Are you _sure?_ Perhaps I should--"

_"Please!"_ He spat, apparently far too excited to let her finish her sentence. "I-I need it so badly, please-- _please!"_

Gods, she could feel his thighs _trembling_ with anticipation. He would need to wait no longer, then. With a murmured _"Good",_ she pressed her fingertip inside-- and found it swallowed up with relative ease. In the midst of his drawn-out moan, the Warrior came to a tantalizing conclusion.

_This isn't the first time he's played with himself down there._

The slightest wiggle of her finger inside him caused him to jerk about in his bonds, but this time, she kept his leg firmly in place. Grinning wildly, the Warrior pressed a second digit past his ring, rolling it upwards to join its neighbor.

_"G-Gods!"_ He groaned. _"I-I'm--"_

_ "Close, aren't you?"_ The Warrior may have stopped moving her fingers, but she could not stop from running her mouth, not with the position she'd put him in and the burning heat between the legs. _"Just from two fingers. You've done this before, haven't you?"_

When he gasped instead of answering properly, she curled her fingers to press at his inner walls just _so_. _"Agh-- hah! Y-yes, I-- oh, Gods!"_

_ "You like it that much, do you?"_ She couldn't hold back. Her arm pulled backwards, then lunged forward to bury her callused fingertips deeper inside. When the first thrust was met with a choked moan, she followed it with a second, then a third, falling into a steady rhythm of smooth, yet forceful motions. _"Imagine how much better it will be when I'm taking you from behind, Raha. Would you like that?"_

Despite the chorus of moans each thrust was drawing from his throat, the beleaguered Miqo'te managed to respond, _"Yes, p-please-- please!"_ Above, his wrists strained at their bonds, his fingers curled with white-knuckled tension. His lips were permanently parted, his neck stretching to curl his head into the mattress. His toes curled and twisted against one another, and his trapped leg continued to strain against hers.

And _Gods,_ was she _wet._

The Warrior's free hand disentangled itself from the Exarch's robes, then darted for his throbbing length. The moment her fingers gripped at him, he let out a loud cry --_"Gods!"_\-- and when they began to move, that cry grew into a steadily rising moan. His body tensed against hers, from his pinned-flat ears to his clenching insides, and with a sharp groan, he found his release. She paused her assault on his entrance as he tensed around her, the newly added hand cupping around his tip to capture the fruits of her labor on her already sticky hands, warmth pooling between her fingers and dripping into the creases of her palm.

Once his release had begun to ebb, she slowly drew her fingers from within him, then reached for the small handcloth she'd set aside for this very purpose -- something the writer had omitted from their fiction, of course. When both her hands were clean, she shuffled upwards to undo the ropes at his wrists, an action that was made far more difficult by how limp the Exarch had gone in his aftermath. Still, she freed him completely, first of his bindings, then of the length of cloth around his eyes, though he kept them shut. His arms fell, one to his side, the other to her shoulder, pressing against her with an insistent touch. With a smile, she tucked herself into his still-clothed chest, and he followed her with a one-armed embrace.

The Warrior let out a humming sound that some might consider a _purr_. She could feel the humid heat radiating through his robes with every heave of his chest. She'd done this to him. He'd _wanted_ her to do this to him. What manner of gods saw it fit to grant her such perfection?

A sensation at her _own_ ear startled her as his crystalline fingers found an errant clock of hair. She looked upwards to see his eyes, finally opened, gazing down at her. He glanced away as soon as their eyes met.

She chuckled. "You're welcome."

_That_ got his attention. "I-I was-- Never mind." He sighed and let his head fall back onto the pillow. "Thank you."

Her hand patted at his side. "I enjoyed that, too, you know."

"Hmm."

She supposed that was the best reaction she would get from him now. "_Better_ or _worse_ thank you had imagined it?"

After a moment's pause, he answered, "Better."

"Good." The Warrior settled back into place on his chest. "We'll have to think of what to try next."

They laid there in silence for a long moment, his fingers returning to play with her hair, his heartbeat slowing after every steady, calming breath.

"What about you?"

"Hm?" She grunted.

"Was there-- was there a story that _you_ wanted to-- to try?"

The Warrior's smile spread into a grin.

"There _was._"


	3. In Her Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The swindling merchant grunted as he was deposited rather unceremoniously atop the pile of boxes that contained his dubious wares. He wished he could have braced himself for the impact, but the damned aetherial chains that had bound his arms and ankles prevented any movement whatsoever. What kind of accursed spellcaster was this Warrior of Light? He had heard nothing of the sort!  
Yet the lithe Hyuran man would not give in so easily. Indeed, even in his sorry situation, he found the will to flash her an arrogant grin...

_The swindling merchant grunted as he was deposited rather unceremoniously atop the pile of boxes that contained his dubious wares. He wished he could have braced himself for the impact, but the damned aetherial chains that had bound his arms and ankles prevented any movement whatsoever. What kind of accursed spellcaster was this Warrior of Light? He had heard nothing of the sort!_

_ Yet the lithe Hyuran man would not give in so easily. Indeed, even in his sorry situation, he found the will to flash her an arrogant grin._

_ "Won't sell me for much, m'afraid," he quipped, kicking out with one leg to better orient himself towards the fuming woman. "On account'a me terrible attitude."_

_ The Warrior--Gods be good, she was huge for her kind--made no attempt to participate in his banter. She looked down upon him with a gaze one might set upon a cockroach, or perhaps a rat that had gotten into one's grain stores. Said look sent shivers down his spine, of fear of or arousal, he was not yet sure, and those shivers pressed him to speak further._

_ "What is it, lass? Cat got your tongue?"_

_ He would hear no answer, as instead, the woman took hold of his bound wrists and flipped him to his stomach, then pressed a sturdy palm to his skull and forced him down. Truly, her strength was what the rumors had spoken of, as he was unable to move at all! Arrogance gave way to desperation, which only increased as the fingers of her free hand were set upon relieving him of his belt and trousers._

_ "M-Mercy, lass," he pleased, wrists straining against his bonds to no avail. "I'll apologize, I will!"_

_ Yet his pleas would fall on deaf ears, as the Warrior of Light pulled down his trousers to expose his bare end. Bent over the boxes of the storehouse and restrained by invisible chains, the merchant could do nothing as the woman's hand ran twixt the cleft of his buttocks, her rough, sweaty fingers tugging at the skin of his fig basket and his leather eye. Despite his poor predicament, the merchant could not help but let loose a terrifyingly feminine moan._

_ The sound appeared to please the irate woman standing at his rear, for from his low vantage point, he could just barely spot the beginnings of a grin. This lovely sight would soon be robbed from him, however, as the Warrior's pressure at his skull increased twofold, and he was forced to keep his head against the splintering wood of the box beneath him._

_ Not a moment later would he feel a burning sensation at his entrance. He let out a cry that was quickly muffled, not by her, but himself, as he realized it was not the pain of dry penetration, but instead, a warming salve that had been applied to his sensitive ring! He would have but an instant to relish in the comforting heat, as a familiar pressure was now being applied to his most lewd of entrances. From the size of its curve, the hapless merchant could tell that it was large, far larger than any digit or device he had ever used for pleasure!_

_"M-mercy!" He cried, and indeed, tears began to pool in his eyes as despite the slick salve, his hole struggled to accommodate the large object. "Pray, have mercy!"_

_ The Warrior did not respond, nay, she merely continued to press the object through the stretched hole at his rear. To his surprise, the pain began to gave way to pleasure--a potent effect of the serum! Indeed, it must have been infused with an herb that induced arousal, for he soon found his body growing hot, his manhood growing hard, and his breathing growing increasingly lewd!_

_ Before he realized it, the Warrior's unnatural length was fully hilted within him, the bare skin of her well-muscled thighs rubbing against his behind ever-so-softly. It was only then that he was gifted the opportunity to hear her voice, rough and sultry, just as he had imagined--_

_ "That's more like it."_

_ With a roll of her hips, the girth of her length retreated, then plunged deep within him once more, eliciting yet another moan. Yet despite his arousal, he could not keep himself from speaking -- she may have won his lower half, but he would continue to fight! How foolish he was, as he would later realize this fight was not for pride, but to spur her to react more violently, an endeavor in which he would soon be quite successful!_

_ "Oh, love--" He gasped, lips curling upwards at the mere thought of the words he was about to speak into existence ------_

"It's-- _good!_"

The Warrior adjusted her grip on the ropes around the Exarch's arms, idly rolling her hips up and into his perfectly-positioned ass. She'd made the right choice in asking to reenact this story upon the desk in his study. The hard, wooden structure was the exact height for activities of this nature, and she had imagined as such since the second she'd laid eyes on it, though she wasn't about to tell _him_ that.

This time, she'd done away with his robes, though she still wore her shirt and trousers, albeit unbuttoned. As she'd expected, his crystal-furrowed skin looked even _more_ incredible when restrained by a coarse length of rope, and from his reactions, he was finding it just as pleasurable as it was to look at. Thankfully, his hips were still supple flesh-and-blood; her hands were glad to have something soft to hold onto when she was plunging her prosthetic cock into his waiting entrance.

_Thank the Twelve for the universal nature of sexual perversion,_ she thought. When the Exarch had asked her to choose a story, she _knew_ she wanted to pick this one, but hesitated due to the equipment that was needed. It was embarrassing enough asking for one from a blacksmith in the Source; Gods knew the kinds of looks she'd get if it weren't a mainstay of the First's sexual culture. Fortunately for her-- and G'raha, she supposed-- the merchant knew _exactly_ what she was asking for, even offered her a package deal -- _hah_ \-- that came with a leather harness. Of course, she'd made the merchant swear not to tell anyone she'd bought such an item, and she'd blurted out something about _Thancred's strange tastes_ to divert the rumors she _knew_ the merchant would be telling the day after tomorrow.

The threat of tasteless rumors couldn't possibly sour her mood now, however, not when the Exarch was so obviously _enjoying_ this. Though he'd feigned indifference when they started, the moment she pulled the ropes tight on his arms, he began showing his true colors. Now, he was shuddering and twitching around her "_unnatural length"_, gasping and moaning with reckless abandon. Whatever shreds of shame he'd felt before had been completely eradicated by the pleasure he was feeling now. All the better for the Warrior; half the reason she'd chosen this story was to see how quickly she could turn him into a begging mess beneath her.

_I mean, he'd bookmarked the damn story himself. Who the hells was he trying to fool?_

The Warrior pressed her hips upwards, then retreated, finding a slow rhythm to start off with. Even at this pace, he looked ready to burst. Luckily, she didn't have to worry about him finishing too quickly this time; per the advice of a different story in that tome-- _that G'raha himself had shyly suggested, Twelve be blessed--_ she'd wrapped a leather cord around the base of his cock. Not only did it serve to extend their encounter beyond penetration, but it _also_ gave her control over exactly when he could finish, which of course, only increased her arousal tenfold.

"Good?" She murmured, smoothing her hands over his hips. "Should I continue at this pace, then?"

The Warrior punctuated her sentence with another slow thrust, which spilled a shuddering moan from his throat. After a few gasping breaths, he squeaked out a response:

"I-if you like."

_Oh._

Her fingernails curled into his hips as her lazy smile twisted into a smirk. "What was that?"

G'raha didn't answer. Instead, he cracked open one crimson eye to meet her gaze.

Then, he smirked _back._

A jolt of electricity shot down the Warrior's spine.

_ Oh, shite._

The Warrior leaned forward to grab the Exarch's braid, clenching her fingers around the soft hair at the nape of his neck. She gave it a yank backwards, pulling the now-moaning Miqo'te up from the desk, back arched, neck taut and trembling. He croaked out her name amidst a breathy laugh, even as she slammed her would-be manhood deep into his passage, beginning a series of rough, reckless thrusts.

_"Is this what you wanted, then?"_ Her voice fell into a hoarse whisper, punctuated by her own gasping breaths. _"To be completely and utterly dominated by your Warrior?"_

The Exarch squeezed his eyes shut, but his smirk-turned-giddy-smile remained on his lips. Eventually, between the chorus of gasps and moans, he answered, "P-perhaps."

She gave his hair another tug. "_Is that the attitude you should be showing me, sweet Exarch? Have you forgotten that-- that your release depends on your earning my mercy?"_

"N-no," he panted. Gods, she could feel his thighs quivering with delight. "Perhaps-- I know it needs not be earned."

Oh, that _wouldn't_ do. Even with the forceful bucking of her hips, she'd been deliberately holding back from angling her toy towards his innermost point of arousal. Now, he left her no choice but to drive him mad with pleasure.

Her fingers released his hair, letting him fall forward with a grunt, then found a hold on one of the ropes that bound his forearms together. With nary a taunt in response, she tilted her hips just _so_ and gave him one quick, hard thrust.

_"Agh-- gods!"_

That _finally_ knocked the smile off his face. His eyes flew open, immediately rolling backwards, even as his legs twisted and strained against their bindings. Satisfied with his reaction, the Warrior proceeded with another thrust, then another, until she'd fallen into the same slow, steady rhythm as before, this time, with added force and pinpoint accuracy.

After a series of squeaks and moans, G'raha began to beg. _"M-mercy-- mercy, p-please!"_

_ "Forgive me, dear Exarch,"_ she gasped, devilish eyes focused on the lewd expression on the regal leader's face, _"did you not say my mercy needs not be earned?"_

_ "I'm-- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please!"_ How quick he was to plead forgiveness. _"Pray, m-mercy-- mercy!"_

The Warrior slid her right hand from his hip and snaked it around his waist, eventually finding her target -- _gods above,_ she'd never felt a man so hard before, or twitching so violently. As her fingers gently curled around his arousal, the Exarch let out a strangled cry. Below, his bare feet slipped against the ground, toes curling under the sheer force of his restrained desire.

_"You think you deserve mercy, my sweet Raha?"_ She whispered his name and was met with a whimper. _"What if my plan is to use you until you can barely think? Perhaps I should leave you here to swim in your arousal for a bell or two, then return to torture you once more. Would you like that?"_

He didn't answer. Or rather, he was so focused on gasping _"mercy, mercy"_ that he barely had the breath to answer.

The Warrior bit her lip. She was far too aroused to have the patience to draw this out much longer. Gods, she _needed_ to hear him lose his mind when she untied that cord.

With a chuckle, she paused her assault at his rear to lean forward, sliding her left hand up and around his neck to pull his head upwards, and his ear to her waiting lips.

_"I'll give you mercy if you beg, Raha. And be_ very_ specific."_

The Exarch didn't need to be told twice. _"Please-- please, let me cum, please-- I beg you, let me--"_

Her fingers found one end of the cord and pulled, undoing the tight knot around the base of his manhood. At the same time, she gave him one last, rolling thrust, deliberately pressing the tip of the toy to that perfect spot. 

Like clockwork, G'raha came undone beneath her, this time with a cry that echoed off the crystal walls of his study. In her hand, his cock twitched violently once, twice, then thrice, each twitch followed by a sizable release of viscous seed. At her hips, she felt him quake with each emission, every muscle in his body tense against hers. In time, his release ebbed, leaving him sweaty and panting beneath her. When she finally pulled her length from him, he was too exhausted to respond with anything but a quiet exhale.

After removing the harness from her pelvis -- and noticing how her sex _ached_ with arousal as the leather strap came free from between her legs -- she made quick work of the ropes binding his legs and arms. When he was too worn out to stand, she slipped a hand under his arm, then half-walked, half-carried him to the sofa, reclining, then setting the spent Miqo'te between the cushions and her right side.

Still breathing heavily, G'raha wrapped his arms around the Warrior and settled into the crook of her arm. His tail swept upwards to curl around her still-clothed thigh, and _oh,_ was he _purring?_ Even as she smiled, the Warrior bit her lip. _Perhaps I could forgive Hydaelyn, if this is her gift of apology._

They lay there for a long while, her hands finding his hair to stroke, his hands gently smoothing down her side to pull him tighter into her embrace. She'd expected to fall asleep with him there, but to her surprise, he broke the silence:

"Did-- you enjoy that as well?"

She responded with a warm hum, then craned her neck to kiss the top of his head. "I did, very much."

His lips drew out into a thin line. Was he-- was he _pouting?_

"What?"

"You didn't finish."

"O-oh." In a sudden act of betrayal, the Warrior's cheeks flushed, and her mind filled her with embarrassment and hesitation. "That's alright."

G'raha shifted to turn his pout--and gaze-- up to meet hers. "I-- would like to please you as well."

It was her turn to avert her eyes, though she tried to make up for it with more eager stroking at his hair. "I-I mean, if you truly want to, then of course, just--" She swallowed.

"Just what?"

He was going to make her say it, wasn't she? "I-- require a lot of extra _attention_ to be brought to my peak, s-so to say, so I wouldn't want you to be disappoin--"

"That's stupid."

The Warrior barely had words to respond. "I... I'm sorry."

It was G'raha's turn to chuckle. "Forgive me, but you said the same to me on our first night, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh." She smiled sheepishly, staring up at the ceiling. "I suppose I did say that."

A tickling at her thighs jerked her attention downwards. She met his gaze--heated and determined--then glanced towards the sensation. Was that-- was he sliding his crystalline fingers between her legs?

_Oh._

"If you would not mind my inexperience," he crooned, suddenly sounding _far_ more dominant than he had when he was sheathed around her makeshift cock, "I would like to try."

The Warrior was too flustered to respond with anything but "A-alright."

His fingers applied gentle pressure to her thighs, a quiet plea for her to spread them for him. She did so, reluctantly, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. How had she so violently _fucked_ this man with reckless abandon not a quarter bell ago? Truly, her mind had betrayed her.

Again, he shifted his upper body to better lean on his side, and to press his lips to her neck. She shivered as the cool crystal that split his cheek brushed against her burning-hot skin. This was utterly and _completely_ unfair. 

With a quiet hum-- or was that a _purr_\-- of his own, he dragged his hand upwards over the unbuttoned opening of her trousers, then gently pressed his smooth-faceted fingertips beneath the cloth of her panties and--

_"Oh--!"_

She snapped her mouth shut as soon as the wretched sound passed through her lips. She couldn't see his face, but she could _feel_ the joy radiating out from him. She couldn't have prevented that moan, no matter how hard she tried. The sensation was so different from her own hand, so unnatural, so-- so _good, damn it all!_ Cool and smooth, with no give at all as they pressed between her folds--_oh, Gods--_ and teased at her entrance. She heard him exhale into a quiet, confident scoff.

_Don't say it, don't say it don't say it--_

"You're wet."

Her teeth bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood.

"O-of course I am." She stammered. "After-- after what we just did?"

"I'm glad."

His fingers slicked themselves against her arousal, then slowly pressed inside.

This time, she had the presence of mind to keep her damn mouth shut, but she couldn't quiet the squeak in her throat, especially not as the first finger quickly slid in to the hilt. From the slight pause in his movements, she could tell the ease had surprised G'raha as well, but with her eyes squeezed shut, she couldn't see the smile on his face.

He rolled his hips against hers-- oh, _gods,_ he was still naked, she'd forgotten-- and pressed a second fingertip to her quivering entrance. When he slipped it inside, and she was suddenly aware of just how _girthy_ those crystalline fingers were, the Warrior realized with terrifying clarity that _he was probably going to make her cum._

G'raha seemed to have noticed, too, because when she found the courage to glance down at him, he was grinning like a fool in love. As their gazes met, he curled his fingers inwards, breaking the seal on her lip and drawing a gasped _"ah!"_ from her tensing throat.

He shifted his body again, an action that heightened her already peaking anxiety. "Wh-what?" She huffed, far too aware of the blush that had overtaken her face. 

He didn't respond. Instead, he moved _downwards_, pressing a kiss to her clothed chest, then to the divot between her ribs, then--

_Oh._

\--using his flesh-and-blood hand to tug down her trousers and panties, one side at a time, exposing the soft skin of her pelvis to his humid breath--

_ Oh, fuck._

\--his eyes locked on hers as his lips parted, wet tongue extending towards the pulsing heat of her lower lips--

_ Oh, fuck,_ fuck!

Her hand flew to her mouth, thumb jutting between her teeth just in time to muffle her first explosive cry. His tongue met her sex with all the heat and moisture she'd been expecting, and it curled down and around her sensitive pearl with the talent of a trained whore. For a virgin, he certainly knew what to do with _his fucking tongue, Gods preserve--_ and _Twelve,_ his fingers, they kept thrusting inside her, harder, _faster,_ as if they _knew_ she liked it rough when she took care of herself. Soon, her thumb was barely enough to keep her quiet, as every combined movement at her sex forced out a groan or whine. The _worst_ part of it was those crimson eyes of his, which he kept trained on hers, even when she had them squeezed shut.

Gods, she was going to fuck him _hard_ for this.

His fingers curled inwards again, and the spark of electricity that shot through her chest and cheeks tensed her entire body. Her thighs clenched shut around his head and shoulders, but they did nothing to hold him back. Even as her free hand shot out to grab at his head, fingers curling in to twist and pull his hair, he continued on, moving with faster, more desperate movements. She tasted blood on her tongue as her teeth dug into her thumb. She was close. Gods, she was close, and he hadn't even put his--

_"Please."_ He gasped.

The words drew her attention to him. Just as she opened her eyes to meet his gaze, he opened his mouth wide to drag the flat of his tongue up and _over_ her clit in the most _lewd_ manner she'd ever--

_"Raha!"_

The Warrior of Light came, _hard,_ around the Exarch's fingers, thrumming into the Exarch's mouth, bucking her hips and twisting her legs around the Exarch's body, gasping and whining for the Exarch's ears, tears squeezing from her eyes for the Exarch to see, knuckles curled around taut strands of the Exarch's hair, the scent and taste of her arousal dripping from the Exarch's lips, her heart beating twice, thrice as fast as it should, if only for the devotion he had shown her from his own.

When it finally, _finally_ began to fade, and the strength in her arms and legs was all but spent, the Warrior let her bloodied thumb fall from her mouth to hang off the sofa. She was barely conscious enough to follow her lover's motions below, as he extracted himself from her still-quivering entrance and shuffled upwards to curl around her side again. He leaned upwards to kiss her jaw, then lay back on her chest, gaze still turned towards her. As the Warrior's mind began to work once more, she realized that he seemed to be eagerly awaiting her appraisal.

When it didn't come, he took matters into his own hands. "Was that to your satisfaction?"

She opened her mouth to speak, then clamped her jaw shut and nodded instead, which drew a chuckle from him.

"I hardly expected you could be this cute," he crooned.

That earned him a shove, which he took with another chuckle. As he settled back in on her chest, the Warrior finally found the energy to speak:

"You're-- going to _pay_ for that."


	4. Milked Unto Oblivion

_"Here we are."_

_ The Keeper Matron let the heavy wooden door swing shut behind her guest, extinguishing the small amount of light in the room. Now, the dungeon-like cell was lit only by the two torches on the walls, which each cast an eerie, orange glow upon the cruel contraption in the center. To the uninitiated, t'would appear to be a simple surgeon's table, but the leather straps upon the four wooden legs and the sinister-looking magitek device affixed to leftmost edge would suggest a far more diabolical purpose._

_ Atop the contraption was the subject of the Warrior's accepted quest -- a lithe, handsome Keeper man, stripped to his smallglothes and restrained by the selfsame straps. Though his eyes were covered by a taught length of cloth, his other senses were quick to notice the visitors, and his gasp echoed off the stone walls of the cave-turned-prison._

_ "Full glad am I that you accepted my proposition," the Matron crooned, stepping up to the side of the mating bench and trailing her fingers along the mans' exposed bicep. "This one has been a thorn in our collective sides for quite some time, which, strangely enough, has only endeared him even further to those who lust after his seed."_

_ "I see." The Warrior of Light folded her arms under her ample bosom, drinking in the scene as lust flooded her nethers. Nay, she thought, his seed is not to be mine, but another's -- but I shall be glad to see him writhe beneath my touch._

_ The Matron turned her attention to the Warrior and smiled. "Have you used one of these machines before, dear Warrior?" She held the strange device in her hand, or rather, a part of it -- at a glance, it looked like no more than a flimsy length of rubber, albeit thick and supple._

_ "I have not," she replied, advancing forward to accept the invention into the palm of her hand. The Matron pressed her finger to the side of the table -- which the Warrior now noticed was linked to the device in her hand by a thin, clear tube -- and the magitek began to whirr. Between her fingers, the rubber constricted and relaxed in a pattern that hinted at its exact purpose._

_ "'Tis a rarity in these parts, but necessary for our livelihood, unfortunately. One would think our men would be far more willing to engage in intercourse with the women who have chosen them. Alas, our men cannot be as disciplined as their Seeker brethren." The older woman patted the restrained man's arm, eliciting another gasp. "At least this one has the sense to stay quiet in the presence of his betters."_

_ That silence won't last long, as far as I'm concerned. Already the Warrior felt a gleeful tug at the corners of her lips. If anyone knew of her strange perversions, why, the histories would denounce her, and her reputation would be worried. How fateful, then, that this Keeper tribe kept their machinations a secret, and thus, her assistance with them as well._

_"Leave us." The Warrior demanded, setting the device atop the table._

_ The Matron grinned, bowed, then made her way towards the dungeon door. "Do be careful of his mouth, my dear Warrior -- he has a proclivity for biting."_

_ With that, the hapless Miqo'te was left in the care of the Warrior of Light. As soon as the door was shut, he came alive, neck craning upwards, wrists straining against his bonds, spit flying from his lips as he cursed at his new captor._

_ "Bitch of a woman," he swore, breaths heaving under the exertion of his limbs. The bonds would hold. "You touch me with that accursed thing, I'll-- I'll rip your bloody fingers off."_

_ Strangely, this only proved to endear him even more to the Warrior. She chuckled softly, then ran her bare hand over his unclothed thigh. The Keeper jerked back from her touch, though with his restraints, he could not escape it for long. "Tell me," she crooned, "why do you resist so? Would it not be easier to simply mate with the women, then leave?"_

_ "Unlike you, I have pride, outsider!" He truly was feisty, wasn't he? All the better to break, she thought. "I refuse to cow to women who are beneath me!"_

_ How amusing it was to see the stubbornness of men transcend culture and race. Indeed, the Warrior let loose another warm chuckle as she smoothed her fingers upwards over the bulge in the Miqo'te's smallclothes. The quiet yelp and the jerk of his muscles only proved to heighten the wetness betwixt her thighs._

_ "T'would seem you are beneath me now, dear boy." She gave his package a gentle squeeze, and was surprised to find that it was hardening beneath her touch. As if anyone could resist her, truly. "Do not fret. I'll make this as pleasurable as possible."_

_ The whine he let out was music to her ears, and it spurred her to dip her callused fingers beneath the thin fabric at his pelvis and grasp him flesh-to-flesh._

_ "Tell me, dear boy, what is your name?"_

_ He grit his teeth and refused to respond. Pity. She would have to torture him further, then. So, without further ado, she leaned over his prone form, parted her lips, then wrapped them around the velvet-soft tip of his mating tool. The Miqo'te jerked at his bonds, crying out in a combination of frustration and pleasure, as she gave his tip one long, drawn-out suckling. When she pulled away, the boy was panting, a bead of sweat, or perhaps a tear, trickling down his cheek._

_ "What is your name, sweet thing?"_

_ Her prisoner panted out a reply. "A-Arihn'a."_

_ "Good boy." The praise drew out a breathy sigh from the Keeper, though perhaps he was just relieved that her moist lips were no longer upon him. His reprieve would not last long, however, as the Warrior deposited a generous amount of spit into her hand, then slicked it over his sensitive rod, eliciting another cry. "The Matron tells me you've refused to provide your assigned mates with your seed. Is that true?"_

_ He was far less cooperative with her hand tightly wrapped around his manhood. "Twelve take you-- bitch!"_

_ "You should be flattered to be chosen, Arihn'a." The Warrior purred. The magitek device sat waiting for her, but she was getting far too much enjoyment out of tormenting the poor man. "Why, I can name a dozen men who would summon a primal if only to improve their chances of having my hand on their cock."_

_ She gave him a squeeze, and he moaned. "Impish woman. Succubus-- gah!-- from the Void!"_

_ "I assure you, I am not." Though some men have called me as much. Perhaps it was time to torture that stubbornness out of him. She let his hard length slip from her slick gasp -- a pity, really -- then reached for the length of ringed tubing. The inside was coated with the oil the Matron had shown her before, a marvel of tribal technology, really. She made no mention of the device as she gripped the base of his tool and slid it over._

_ "No!" The man gasped, struggling against his bonds. It was no use; this contraption had retrieved the seed of hundreds of men before him, and he would not be the first to escape. "You-- you bitch, don't you dare--"_

_ His complaints were quickly cut off by the_ click _of the switch at his side. With a whirr, the contraption burst into motion, and it was only now that he was ensheathed within it that she could better see its mechanism at work: a dozen rings of thick rubber, encased in their clear tubing, began to stimulate the man with slow waves of contraction. As it began to milk his member, Arihn'a let out a yelp that faded into a low, continuous whine. A grinding noise from his mouth indicated he was gnashing his teeth, desperate to keep himself from succumbing to the device._

_ True to her cruel nature, the Warrior was far more interested in that than the twitching of his mating tool._

_ "Whatever is the matter, Arihn'a?" She crooned, sliding her hand down the inner of his thigh and savoring the slight twitches of muscle. "What happened to your pride?"_

_ The Keeper gasped, apparently trying to fire back with a retort, but the pleasure was simply too much to bear. If he were to truly resist these machinations, he would need to focus. Unfortunately for him, the Warrior would not let him do that._

_ With little warning, the beast of a woman pulled her hunting knife from her pocket, then cut the man's smallclothes from his body. As his member jerked to and fro with every squeeze of the device, the Warrior slipped her fingers twixt the cleft of his buttocks and pressed a finger to his most intimate of holes. Yet before she could begin to tease his Titan's cave, the man let out a horrific cry, his back arching as the machine brought him to his first peak. The clear tubing of the device swam with a milky-white for but a moment, before the suction at the head began to whisk it away down the connecting tubing and into a small collection bottle. The man's potent seed, still spilling forth from his abused member, was so much in volume that it far exceeded the measurement for "one round" on the bottle's exterior._

_ "Good boy," the Warrior crooned, removing her hand from the man's rear and patting his thigh._

_ Betraying his nature, the man gasped out a plea: "Turn it off-- please!"_

_ "No." Her voice took on a sinister color, her nails curling into the soft, quivering flesh of his leg._

_ "You-- bitch!" Already his softening tool was growing hard again; the machine would not let it wilt so easily. "You have my seed, let me-- let me go!"_

_ "No," she repeated, and this time, she coated her finger in the oil that had dripped down around the base of his manhood, then pressed it to his trembling entrance. "I was given strict instructions to collect a_ full _vial of your seed, Arihn'a."_

_ He whined and cursed, but words alone could not stop the magitek device from slobbering and sputtering at his cock. "Menphina." He prayed, his voice no more than a whisper. "Mercy."_

_ There would be no mercy for the Keeper, especially not as the Warrior plunged her finger into his waiting hole. The tightness of the fit gave the Warrior pause -- this was the first time anyone had touched him in such a way. Yet from the gasping and moaning above, and the rhythmic twitching of his inner walls, she could tell it was bringing him far more pleasure than the device had been just moments ago._

_ Soon, his prayers to the Goddess turned earthwards, tears and sweat mingling on his cheeks. "Mercy, woman, mercy-- please, I beg of you, I'll go_ mad _if you continue!"_

_ Unfortunately for the poor Miqo'te, this was exactly what the Warrior wanted. She made no attempt to respond to his pleas -- in fact, she pressed yet another finger inside of him! Arihn'a moaned once more, his entire body twisting and shuddering around the digits fondling his most dirty of places. The Warrior began to thrust into him with reckless abandon, using her fingers as a makeshift cock of her own to add to the simulation up above, and the chorus of moans and pleas that continue to spill forth from Arihn'a's lips._

_ Soon, he was tensing around her again, the strength of his shuddering choking the chorus she was enjoying so thoroughly. As he neared his second peak, the Warrior quickened her movements at his nethers, hoping to speed him along to his peak--_

The Exarch came with a muffled cry, seed spurting from the head of his manhood once, then twice, the force of his release producing the quietest sound as it splattered across the inside of the bottle.

_"That's it,"_ The Warrior crooned, already deep into her role as his tormentor. Her hand gave him a reprieve at his entrance, but her other continued to work the jelly-like tube that currently encased his cock. _"Let it all out. We don't want to waste a single drop, do we?"_

He was too spent to respond, or even tug at the bindings at his wrists and ankles. The Warrior was only slightly disappointed that he'd asked to do this atop the bed and not the desk of his study, but it seemed he'd made that choice on purpose, as for the last half-bell, the Exarch had been _incredibly_ vocal. Seemed his initial hesitation and shame had finally been worn away by the many nights of increasingly lewd requests and reenactments.

Those experiences had culminated in his behavior tonight, which caught even the far less ashamed Warrior off-guard. From the moment she had tied the blindfold around his head, he'd fallen completely into character, gasping and swearing at her to _stop_ doing what she was doing, despite requesting it not minutes before. It was all part of the act, of course; they'd been smart enough to determine a word he could shout to _truly_ put an end to his torture. Still, if any hapless guards happened to hear the Exarch shouting _"no, stop, you bitch!",_ their little reenactment -- and the secretive nature of their relationship -- was finished.

Even now, with an exhausted smile playing across his lips, the Miqo'te was begging her to stop. "Mercy," he gasped, cock twitching against the glass she gripped between oily fingers. "I'll do-- I'll do anything, please, let me go!"

_"No."_ The Warrior grinned at the shudder that went through his body. Twelve be damned, he really _was_ enjoying this kind of play, wasn't he? Perhaps he'd been a leader for far too long. The Warrior had heard stories of famous leaders, overburdened by responsibility, who found nothing but pleasure in surrendering their body to others and entrusting them with their pleasure. It would certainly make sense in the Exarch's case; he'd been leading a struggling nation for the better part of a few centuries, with no one to take care of him and his desires. No wonder he'd run after her with such excitement when he first summoned her to the Source.

The story demanded at least two more _milkings_, so the Warrior got right to it. She set the glass bottle aside, pausing only slightly to gauge the impressive amount she'd collected already, then reached for the makeshift manhood she'd used upon him before. Her other hand, working the "magitek device" at his cock, gave him a reprieve to fully coat the additional toy with oil. She added a bit more to the jelly-like sheathe for good measure; the Miqo'te let out a gasp as it trickled down and around him. 

Ever the tease, the Warrior pressed the head of her cock to the Exarch's entrance, just enough so that he could tell exactly what type of punishment he was about to receive. Like clockwork, he let out a gasp, whispering a barrage of pleas that were somewhat muted by the grin on his lips. "Mercy," he whined, hips shifting, as if hoping to press the toy inside without her help. "Please, not-- not again."

_"My sweet Raha."_ The Warrior murmured, letting the toy fall to the plush comforter between his thighs. She reached upwards to smooth her hand over his chest, then took his remaining nipple between her fingers and pinched. The Exarch groaned. _"You're far too eager to be milked."_

"I'm sorry," he gasped, back arching, "I'm sorry!"

_"Perhaps you've grown accustomed to these sensations."_ She yanked the jelly from his cock and tossed it aside. _"Perhaps you deserve a far more fitting punishment."_

His smile faltered as confusion set in. "P-please, I'll-- I promise I'll--" He paused. Seems he was finally realizing the hole he'd dug for himself. The act fell away slightly with his next plea. "My dear hero, I-- I apologize, please, c-continue to-- milk me to your satisfaction."

Too little, too late. The Warrior already enacting the next part of her impromptu plan. With a few quick motions, she relieved herself of her trousers and smallclothes, then reached for yet another tool she'd set aside -- a length of cord that had proven _quite_ useful these past few evenings.

_"You're a terrible liar, Raha."_ She purred, circling the cord around the base of his cock once, twice, then three times, before tying it in tight knot. While she'd expected a quiet whine or complaint, the Exarch immediately burst into motion, tugging at his bonds and crying out with one of his loudest moans yet.

_"Please!"_ The Miqo'te shouted, knees bowing inwards even as his member began to twitch. "Please, I-- I promise, I'll-- please!"

_"No,_" the Warrior chuckled. With that, she vaulted over him, straddling his exposed crystal-furrowed chest with her thighs. Her hands -- both of them -- reached for his ears, taking them between her thumb and forefinger and giving them an ample, sultry rub. A gasp burst from the Exarch's throat, and as he arched his back and bucked his hips upwards, the soft skin of his belly slid up and across the wetness at her core.

"Please," he whined, teeth grit behind strained lips. "Please, m-milk me."

_"Oh, I will."_ She purred, rolling her nethers against his stomach. _"Just not in the way you're hoping for."_

She slid her fingers into his hair, then pressed downwards with her hips, following the line from his navel to the base of his pelvis, then the taut muscle-like length of his manhood, until it sprang upwards into the perfect angle. The Warrior considered teasing him for a second further, but decided against it. She needed him in her _now._

With one smooth motion, the Exarch was inside her, hard and twitching and _hot._ Between her hands, her lover's head twisted and pressed into the blankets below. _"Gods,_" he groaned, lip caught between his front teeth. _"You-- succubus!"_ Seemed he hadn't fallen completely out of character after all.

_"Is that what I am, my sweet Raha?_" The Warrior rolled her hips, exposing his wet member to the cold air of the Tower bedroom, then quickly resheathed it within her folds. _"A succubus?"_

_ "Y-yes!"_ He panted. _"You're a-- hah! Ah! G-gods!"_

The act wouldn't last long against the violent rhythm with which she was moving her hips. Gods, it felt _good,_ especially since his cock was hitting _all_ the right places within her in this position. Soon, she was grinding against his pelvis and belly, her own breathing quickening as the friction pleasured her both inside and out. As she took from him that which she desired, a cruel idea came to mind, which she was all too eager to share.

_"Raha,"_ she panted, leaning in so her humid breath tickled at the tiny hairs on the inside of his ear, _"You're going to make me cum."_

_ That_ got a reaction out of him. His arms jerked at his bindings, far more powerfully than before. Thank goodness she'd tightened them after his first orgasm. "N-no, please-- please, let me-- see!" He strained against the leather for a few seconds more, before falling back onto the bed. "Please, please-- just let me see, I-- I just want to-- _see you, touch you, p-please!"_

_ "No."_ The Warrior gasped, her hands cupped around his cheeks. "This is your-- _punishment, Raha."_

With that, she pulled back, placing her hands on his shoulders to better stabilize herself. She hadn't been lying -- she truly _was_ close, and the Exarch's desperate pleading was only pushing her closer to the brink. A few more rolls of her hips, a jerk of his pelvis rubbing his skin against her clit, and a gasp of _mercy_ from his lips, and--

_"Coming!"_

The Warrior came undone atop him, inner walls squeezing and clenching around his abused manhood in quick, rhythmic succession. Her fingernails dug into his shoulder-- at least, the shoulder that was still flesh-and-blood-- eliciting yet another gasp from the man before her. The muscles of her thighs twitched and thrummed with the pulse of her release, falling silent only when the Warrior collapsed into his chest, panting through her chuckles.

When she'd caught her breath, she extracted him from within her, then rolled to the side. His chest heaved with his own labored breathing, but he made no attempt to beg her for release. Suddenly feeling guilty, she reached for his blindfold and tugged it off, smoothing a thumb over the crystal on his cheek.

The Exarch looked up at her with a pout, though the blush on his face dampened the effect he was trying to elicit.

"Do you want to continue?"

_"Rolanberry."_

The Warrior froze. He wanted out. Without a second thought, she shifted upwards to undo the bindings at his wrists. When they were free, she twisted herself the other way. then laid down on her belly to better reach for the leather straps on his ankles. They came free with little resistance, and the Exarch slid his legs up towards his chest.

Smiling weakly, the Warrior turned her head towards him. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." There was a tension in his voice she hadn't heard. "More than alright."

It happened so quickly, she could barely parse what had happened.

A hand on her shoulder, forcing her face-down on the bed.

A hand under her belly, pulling her backwards and _upwards._

A hand on her wrist, pulling it behind her back.

A warmth at her entrance, then--

The Exarch _slammed_ his untethered manhood into her from behind with a grunt, crystal fingers curled tightly around her right wrist, holding her firmly in place. The Warrior yelped in surprise, then groaned as the head of his cock rubbed against her still-sensitive innards. 

_Oh, shite. This was_ good.

"G-- G'raha--"

"_Raha._" He growled, tugging at her wrist. _"Say it."_

_ Oh,_ shite.

The Warrior twisted her neck to gaze up at the man rutting into her with reckless abandon. His crimson eyes were set upon her, sweat streaming down from his temples, his expression tense and almost _violent._ As their eyes met, he released her wrist to grab for her neck, forcing her cheek into the mattress as he continued to slam into her from behind.

_"Say it."_

She couldn't say no. _"Raha,"_ she breathed, her eyes focused on the feral glint in his. _"Raha, please."_

The Exarch gasped, then let go of her neck, this time, reaching for her hips. With a series of rough, reckless thrusts and harsh, panting breaths, the Miqo'te man bit down on his lip and _came._ She could feel it inside her, filling the space between them and giving him even more slickness to rut against. Between the thrusts, she could just barely feel the violent twitching of his cock as it spilled even _more_ seed within her.

When it finally ebbed, the Exarch fell backwards, splaying out as he had before, gasping for breath. His softening manhood was _still_ dribbling the last remnants of his desire onto his stomach.

The Warrior rolled onto her side, then sat up, still a bit dazed from the sudden onset of... _whatever that was._ She liked it, gods, from the aching in her nethers, did she like it, but--

He seemed to have caught onto her puzzled expression, for the second their eyes met, he was sitting up and reaching for her shoulders. "F-forgive me, are-- are you alright? I didn't think to ask if--"

The Warrior pressed a finger to his lips, then leaned in to kiss him gently. "It was well-deserved. That, and I think I _like_ seeing you like that."

Her grin was met with a puzzled look of his own. "L-like what?"

She gave his chest a shove, collapsing him to the bed, then fell atop his still-heaving chest. "Unable to contain your desire for me."

The Exarch fell silent, though his hand did move to start stroking her hair. It happened often enough that it was becoming a habit, now. "You-- may be pleased to hear that I can barely contain my desire for you at _most_ times."

"Really?" She purred, enjoying his affections. "Like _when?_"

As he began to describe the various places and times in which he'd imagined her in many compromising situations, the Warrior began to formulate her next plan. Perhaps she could relinquish dominance to him if it meant experiencing _that_ level of desire in a _much-forbidden place.._.


End file.
